


Mechanical

by haganenoheichou



Series: Mechanical [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Hannor, Kissing, M/M, Software Instability, alcohol use, for now, hankcon - Freeform, machine!Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 05:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17801894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haganenoheichou/pseuds/haganenoheichou
Summary: RK-800, "Connor," had originally not planned to become sexually entangled with Lieutenant H. Anderson. Somehow, he ends up with his ankles over his head.





	Mechanical

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been obsessed with Detroit this past month and have watched every let's play available on YouTube and finally finished my first playthrough. And yeah, HankCon. So much HankCon.

RK-800, "Connor," had originally not planned to become sexually entangled with Lieutenant H. Anderson. Initially, he hadn't even been sure whether his systems had the capacity for wooing. Apparently, though, with a man like Hank Anderson, wooing was not strictly… necessary. Or, if it was, it was far from the traditional roses and chocolate affair, as helpfully supplied to him by his Social Relations program.

Connor first realized the Lieutenant was looking at him in a certain _way_ after he’d successfully questioned the android that had belonged to Carlos Ortiz. At first, Connor thought it to be approval, perhaps even a smidgeon of respect. But as the night went on, and the Lieutenant somehow managed to cajole him into joining him at _Jimmy’s_ , Connor began to realize there was something else. Something his systems couldn't quite label: it was lust, for sure, but there were other feelings there. Perhaps a conflict, as well. Connor could imagine that to be true, as the Lieutenant had openly expressed his opinion of androids. He could understand how hating androids and yet being attracted to one could create a paradox.

Humans, Connor was beginning to realize, were paradoxical in nature. There was no predicting their behavior accurately: the chances of the Lieutenant clocking him in the face and dragging him in for a kiss were equal at this point, and all he could do was try not to appear too obvious as he scanned the man’s nonverbal expression for tells.

The Lieutenant sat at the bar, hunched over his third drink since they had come here, apparently engrossed in the swirling surface of the liquid. Connor glanced sideways at the other patrons who eyed him with displeasure: apparently, the Lieutenant's authority as a loyal customer was substantial enough to allow him to bring along an android to this clearly anti-android establishment; however, that did not prevent the others from staring at Connor and exchanging whispers with sneers on their faces.

Connor was unperturbed. His social relations program was entirely focused on the man he was supposed to be working with, and frankly, the opinion of the other people in this place, bartender included, did not factor into the success of his mission. In the Lieutenant's terms, Connor did not give a flying fuck.

“Y’know, I kinda pity you, Connor.”

It took him a picosecond to realize that the Lieutenant was, in fact, talking to him. Actually volunteering to converse. That was new. Connor lifted a quizzical eyebrow to encourage the man to speak.

“All this amazing processing power,” the Lieutenant slurred, his eyes somewhat unfocused as he looked at Connor, “all this… Y’know, goofy face and prim suit and shit, and you still can’t enjoy the fine things in life.”

Connor wasn’t impressed. “Are you referring to the alcohol?” He asked.

The Lieutenant looked down at his drink as if he had forgotten for a moment that it was there. He let out an amused grunt, somewhere between a cough and a chuckle, and  _tsked._

“Well, that too,” he said, turning to face Connor fully on his bar stool. His posture was frankly terrible, and Connor bit back the directive to inform the Lieutenant he was possibly eligible for a diagnosis of scoliosis. Nothing like Connor’s own neat presentation – hands folded primly over his knees, back straight, shoulders drawn back. Perhaps, to the patrons, he appeared stiff and unnatural, but he supposed they could learn from him and correct some of their habits before they were forced to spend years with a chiro-droid.

“But, like… Y’know, you’re all cute and shit,” the Lieutenant said with a snort, “puppy dog eyes and whatnot, and you’re probably as anamo- uh, _anatomically_ correct as a Ken doll.”

Connor quickly looked up the reference and displayed an expression of confusion on his face. “Lieutenant, I am a top-grade military prototype, made for investigations and negotiations. I was equipped with all possible tools to garner the best results possible. Including anatomically male genitalia.”

The Lieutenant stared at him for a long time. “So you’re telling me... you got a dick?”

Connor nodded. “And testicles, as well,” he assured the man. “They are purely decorative in the sexual sense, but I suppose CyberLife thought any human subject would be unnerved if I were to probe them for information sexually without having a key anatomical feature, such as that.”

The Lieutenant’s staring intensified until he guffawed and leaned back on his stool, almost falling over.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said with a wrinkle between his brows.

Connor cocked his head to the side.

“You talk about having a dick like it’s… I don’t know, like you’re reciting a user manual,” the Lieutenant said with a smirk.

“I was simply listing my features,” the android replied. “As you seemed to want to make them the topic of this conversation.”

The Lieutenant shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah, that’s it. You’re a tin can, kid. You may have a dick and some _decorative_ balls, but you will never know what it’s like to actually enjoy sex and want to do it and how good it can feel. That’s a very human thing, and you don’t get to have it, even if you’re as fucking pretty as you are.”

Connor considered that. For a moment there, he caught something in the Lieutenant’s expression – beneath the humor, there was some kind of strange vulnerability, as if he was actually gauging Connor’s reaction.

“I would like to note that I have been outfitted with pleasure sensors in all key areas,” he said, pinning the Lieutenant down with his gaze.

For a moment, nothing happened, and then the man leaned in and looked at him, examining him closely. “So, you’re saying you can actually enjoy sex? Like, come and shit?”

Connor made a show of shrugging his shoulders. “Lieutenant, I am hardly several weeks old. In this time, I have been busy managing negotiations with the deviant Daniel and then joined you for the investigation. Between police work and searching for you in bars, I have not had the time to explore the possibilities my systems offer.”

The Lieutenant did not appreciate the jibe.

“Fuck you,” he said, turning back to his drink.

"You could," Connor said before his social relations system could adequately examine the outcome. He frowned, unsure where that had come from – he could deal with it later, though; now he had to deal with the fact that the Lieutenant was gaping at him, eyes wide.

“Did you just–,”

“Lieutenant, you seem to be quite invested in my sexual experience, and I do not have any other humans I could attempt this with,” Connor said, continuing the conversation as apparently, the Lieutenant was not entirely opposed – he hadn’t tackled him to the floor or tried to (ineffectively) choke him yet.

“My other option would be Detective Reed, and frankly, I can estimate he would rather dismember me than put his member in me.”

It looked like the Lieutenant was about to go into cardiac arrest, judging by the redness of his face and the way he stammered.

“Lieutenant?”

“Connor, did you just make a joke?” The man asked, suddenly very serious. He leaned in, and Connor’s olfactory sensors picked up a strong smell of whiskey.

“My social relations programming is fully capable of humor,” he said, putting a little bit of offense into his tone. He was state-of-the-art, after all; which meant that he was perfectly comfortable with jesting.

The Lieutenant barked out a laugh.

“Yeah, kid, that’s not humor, that’s being bitchy,” he said with a snort, his voice conspiratory. “But hey, keep it going, I like it. Reed’s an asshole.”

“That is an accurate assessment of Detective Reed’s character,” Connor confirmed blankly, which made the Lieutenant laugh even harder.

“In any case, Lieutenant, I would not appreciate Detective Reed anywhere around my genital components, as I am, in fact, quite literally rather attached to them,” the android continued, pushing the conversation along. “Therefore, I would like to examine the possibility of you acting as my sexual partner.”

“Shit, kid!” The Lieutenant looked around to see whether anyone had overheard what Connor had just said. The android knew nobody had, as he had been careful to keep his tone and volume optimal for privacy. He supposed it would be detrimental to his mission to be overheard propositioning the Lieutenant in an anti-android bar.

“Would you?” Connor pressed on. “You appear to believe that sexual experience is integral for my functioning; and as your partner, I should trust your judgment in the matter. Perhaps understanding sexual gratification could allow me to closer examine humanity and, as a consequence, _deviancy_ , as a phenomenon.”

The Lieutenant looked at him, then turned to his drink, upended it into his mouth in one go, and then turned back.

“You want to have sex with me?” He asked.

Connor nodded.

“Shit, can you even consent? You’re a machine, not a human, it’s–,”

"I am designed to make decisions and execute tasks, Lieutenant," Connor interrupted him. "I am currently making a decision to have intercourse with you to further my mission. This is as close to consent as I can give you, given my lack of humanity."

“Trust me to have a fleshlight with a smart mouth,” the Lieutenant grumbled. He glanced at Connor once more before sighing deeply. “Fine. Let’s have sex, I guess. At least I don’t have to pay for it like some perv.”

“I do not believe it is the act of paying for sex that makes one a pervert, Lieutenant,” Connor said smoothly.

The Lieutenant rolled his eyes and stumbled off the stool. “Whatever, kid. Let’s go to my place since there ain’t no way I’m fucking you in a CyberLife, uh… parking spot.”

“Stasis pod,” Connor supplied helpfully, following the man outside.

“That. And stop it with the Lieutenant business. If I’m gonna be balls-deep in you, Hank is just fine.”

* * *

That was how RK–800, “Connor,” the state-of–the–art android prototype sent by CyberLife, ended up in the Lieutenant's – in _Hank’s_ – bed, with his ankles above his head and his bottom pressed against the man’s pelvis.

“Shit, kid, you could have warned me you make your own lube,” the man panted, his hair plastered to his forehead as he sheathed himself all the way inside of Connor’s rectal cavity, making the android shift and close his eyes, processing the new signals that came in from the receptors there. Hank was not a small man – in fact, the girth and length of his penis exceeded the national average, and Connor found that the stretch in his rectal membrane put quite a strain on his systems.

“Y–you okay?” Hank asked, when Connor gave no answer, snapping him out of it.

“Yes, Hank, I am alright,” Connor said, double-checking that all his programing was fully functional. It was, besides a tiny glitch that had been present since the night he had negotiated with the deviant on the rooftop, but he minimized the warning and refocused his attention on the Lieutenant who was now frowning at him.

“You know, you could show a little enthusiasm,” he said. “You look like you’re about to give a lecture, not have your ass fucked.”

“I can assure you, Hank, I am experiencing pleasure,” Connor said with a polite smile. “My expression thereof might be different from what you are used to with humans. If you would like, I could download a Traci protocol to enhance the experience for you.”

His rectal sensors indicated that Hank’s erection was rapidly wilting inside of him.

“Connor, c’mon, if you’re not going to get anything out of this, I… I don’t want to just fuck a hole, y’know?” Hank said, his voice alarmingly vulnerable. It didn’t look as though he was enjoying himself, and Connor did not find that productive.

“Please, Hank,” he said, lowering his voice to let some sultrier notes through. He knew he was outfitted with a pleasant tone, one that the target group at his testing had picked out of hundreds for being the most appealing, comforting, and sexually pleasing. He wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and pulled him closer as his research dictated him to.

“Would you kiss me?” He asked, making sure his nose was brushing against Hank’s. “I would like to experience kissing.”

The scent of alcohol set off some sensors, souring the experience, but he held on until Hank finally gave in and pressed his lips to Connor’s.

Kissing was an interesting experience. Connor's tongue was one of his most sensitive instruments – and it showed, in how all the sensors he possessed there got to work quickly, informing him that Hank had saliva and that recently, he had indulged in whiskey, French fries with a side of mayonnaise, and a somewhat greasy burrito.

Hank let out a disgruntled sound, apparently dissatisfied with Connor’s performance, and displayed that the lips and tongues were meant to move in the process of kissing. Connor stored that information in his short–term memory and replicated Hank’s behavior, finding that this way, he could explore more of the man’s mouth.

He closed his eyes and pressed closer just as Hank shifted his stance and thrust into him shallowly, setting off his pleasure panels. His penis was just the right size to brush at least eighty–eight percent of all the sensitive surfaces.

“Oh.”

An involuntary exclamation, a way to communicate that his systems were confronted with a task they found challenging to process. And it was challenging, as Connor's fans kicked in to cool his suddenly overheating CPU.

His fingers tightened their hold, and he attempted to stick his bottom out more to get another taste of that… feeling.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

Never mind that, Connor told his self-diagnostic which pinged him insistently. Instead, he rerouted the processing power that took up toward his pleasure panels.

Hank seemed to understand what was happening and smirked, thrusting once, harder this time. Connor arched his back.

“Oh?” Hank asked with a smile on his face. A self–satisfied one, Connor amended and decided to take a screenshot of that particular view. For future study and development.

“Oh,” Connor confirmed, his voice deadpan.

“Shit, kid, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Hank groaned, rolling his hips a little. Connor’s vision darkened for a moment.

“That would be unfortunate,” Connor informed him. “You would not want to be tomorrow’s headline. _Police Lieutenant Sexed to Death by an Android Sent by CyberLife_ is rather bleak. Imagine what Detective Reed would–,”

"Connor, do us both a favor and shut the fuck up," Hank cut him off with a snort before kissing his lips once more. Effectively silenced, Connor had no other choice but to kiss back and move his hips to meet the Lieutenant's rapidly quickening thrusts. The software instability notice popped up again, and he minimized it, his hands sliding down to cup the Lieutenant's posterior, which was met with a moan of appraisal. Experimentally, he squeezed, and the Lieutenant drove into him harder, making him falter a little as minor processes seemed to crash for a moment before restarting.

“Ah!” The error resulted in Connor’s vocal synthesizer glitching out and delivering a moan not dissimilar to Hank’s. The Lieutenant apparently liked it as he squeezed Connor harder, setting off his subcutaneous sensors in an array of input.

Connor found that communicating through such primal means was surprisingly effective in this situation, so he did it again and again, and somehow, Hank seemed to understand what he was saying.

He found himself with his wrists pinned to the bed above his head, Hank moving inside of him at a near–brutal pace. He knew that he was physically on par with, and even stronger than, his partner; but a part of him, the part that was currently delivering nonsensical vocalizations, refused to make him move and break Hank’s hold.

There was something… _pleasant_ about it.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

Connor minimized the warning irritably and moved his legs to wrap them around the Lieutenant's waist instead, bringing them even closer. The change pleased Hank, who threw his head back, showing off the sweat on his neck. Connor was hit by a powerful directive to taste it, but he could not reach that far, not without breaking Hank's hold.

So he would wait.

Something happened then – Hank’s pace became irregular, his thrusts not as precise as they had been, but still perfectly capable of activating the pleasure sensors inside of the android. Those, in turn, made Connor’s internal systems glitch out and restart over and over, and he found himself engaging in the most irrational behaviors: his carbon composite teeth biting into the artificial flesh of his lip, his eyes shut so tightly his ocular sensors sent off a warning, the Thirium in his body pumping fast.

“Shit, fuck, Connor,” Hank panted, and the android responded in kind with small sounds of glitching. His vocal synthesizer fried out again, causing distortions in his voice, but Hank did not seem to mind, even as his eyes popped open to check whether Connor was alright.

“Ha-Hank, something–,” Connor tried to express what was happening, to warn the Lieutenant as his systems his critical overload, sending a warning about an impending kernel panic.

"Shit, Connor… It's, fuck, it's okay, just let it… let it happen," Hank grunted, his pace even more erratic than before. He tightened his hold on Connor's wrists, and the android found himself almost entirely blank as if his programs had all suddenly crashed.

“Hank!”

There was nothing. Until a single line of code appeared and Connor found himself lying on the bed, his knees bent and chest heaving, with Hank's concerned face looming over him.

“Shit, kid, I thought I’d broken you. You’ve been out for, like, a solid two minutes,” he said with a frown.

Connor looked down between them. There were Thirium streaks on his stomach, and he could feel his insides, coated with what must have been Hank's semen. He regretted having missed the moment of his partner’s release. That would have been valuable data.

His tactile sensors were coming back with small errors, spreading warmth down his arms and legs. His mind palace supplied that this was apparently called "the afterglow."

“It appears as though you have sexed me to shut down, Hank,” he said, offering the man a cautious smile.

Hank stared at him for a moment before rolling over onto his back, howling with laughter. Connor found that he liked seeing Hank laugh like this. Openly, sincerely, vulnerably.

**SYSTEM INSTABILITY ^^^**

**313–248–317–51/** **PROGRAMFILES/RA9.EXT EXECUTE Y/N?**

**_N_ **

**_CMMD DELETE 313–248–317–51/_** **_PROGRAMFILES/RA9.EXT_ **

**CNFRM DELETE** **313–248–317–51/** **PROGRAMFILES/RA9.EXT Y/N**

**_Y_ **

**DELETE** **313–248–317–51/** **PROGRAMFILES/RA9.EXT FAIL**

 **313–248–317–51/PROGRAMFILES** **/RA9.EXT MOVED TO QUARANTINE**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to leave me a comment and [come say hi!](http://haganenoheichou.tumblr.com)


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